


Hunter: Book 1

by TheInconsequential



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original work - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 05:52:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInconsequential/pseuds/TheInconsequential
Summary: As a vampire working for the LAPD, Matthias Cross has been around the block once or twice...or three times.Young for an immortal but aged in wisdom and sarcasm, Matthias is stuck onto one of the most prolific cases of the decade. Folks around Los Angeles are turning up dead or missing at alarming rates. Matthias knows it's the work of vampires, but when werewolf maulings become just as common, he begins to wonder what's really going on.As Matthias begins the journey to track down the source, he must wrestle with his past that has come back to haunt him in more ways than one and the new hire, Jesse Cooper, part-time preacher and full time detective, doesn't help. Matthias begins to fall for Jesse and realizes that they're both in over their heads and suddenly it's up to him to keep Jesse alive, and prevent the downfall of humanity to the immortals.





	Hunter: Book 1

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ: 
> 
> Hey so I finally finished Chapter One! Wow! I feel really accomplished.
> 
> You might have noticed that I added the Implied Rape/Non-Con tag. This is important because there is such content in this chapter. The actual description is in the paragraph that starts with "I fully let him lead now..." and ends after the word "VIOLATED". It is not long nor a very detailed scene.
> 
> So yeah just a heads up! Also the f-slur is used once at the end of the chapter.

   I can think of a few things I would rather be doing than sneaking down a dark alley.

   Like enjoying a nice drink at home, a nice meal, a good movie. Instead, I’m on the pursuit. On a hunt, because the world needs justice and I am incredibly thirsty. The prey—the person, in question, has no inkling of my presence. Why they chose this route to their destination is a mystery to me, aren’t they aware they could get mugged? My footsteps make no sound on the concrete as I follow, the minimal light cannot penetrate the darkness that hugs me. My eyes would be the only give away but by the time they’re noticed, well, by then it’s too late.

  
   I’ve already grown tired of this slow chase. I’m used to moving slow and acting human but not while hunting. I pick up the pace still silent and just at the right moment, right before the person—man, shit-bag, meal, steps into brighter light. I grab hold and pull back. He comes with ease and I don’t notice his struggle if he’s even trying. I let go, and he is, as he whirls around, gun whipped out and finger on the trigger. He pulls and pulls and pulls. Several shots sound off and hit me with as much sting as a paintball gun. He becomes frantic, I can feel it, see it, hear it in his blood. He fires until he’s out of bullets before the last ditch effort of chucking the gun in my direction. My hand shoots out and I launch it back, embedding it into the wall right next to his head.

   “What the FUCK MAN?! WHY AIN’T YOU DEAD?!” he screams and the scent of urine hits my nose.

   I smile and I know my fangs are deadly, “Well, my friend, I already am.” I’m advancing on him and the pounding of his heart and the rushing through his veins drowns out everything else.

   A man such as this would never have been my first choice but at this rate, I take what I can get. My fangs ache and burn as they extend and my throat is scorched. It feels like even my eyes are burning with their red intensity. As I step further into the light for his vision to adjust, the man’s eyes nearly fall out of his head.

  
   “You’re a fuckin’ freak!!” he screams but I know there is nothing behind those words, I can feel his pathetic desire to live.

  
   Part of me nearly stops, wants to give this man the advantage of a head start. To let him run and begin the hunt, but I hold off. By now, he’s babbling and attempting to bribe me with money and whatever else he can pull out of his pockets. I have no more games to play, none that I feel like playing now. It’s over in an instant as I advance upon him, faster than can be seen. His screams don’t last long and I don’t waste time when I drain him completely dry.

  
   He tastes disgusting, as expected but nonetheless, it quenches my thirst and the satisfied growl that rips from my throat is proof. When I’m finished, I quickly riffle through what he’s got, mainly his wallet. I pocket the cash and credit cards. I’d check bank accounts later. As I pull out my own wallet, my department badge glints at me in the streetlight. Ironic. I serve justice on these streets day and night, in and out, and yet…

  
   The morality and justice of the situation are out of my mind by the time I turn down the next street corner. The deceased man’s body is perfectly nestled in a full to the brim dumpster and the trash is picked up tomorrow. He may or may not be found but that’s of no matter to me. I don’t get caught. Again under the cover of darkness, I’m free to make my way home as quickly as I please, nothing but a gust of breeze. It takes a total of a minute to cross town and reach the apartment complex in which I dwell at the speeds I travel. Up two flights of stairs and to the left. I approach my door and turn the knob, nudging it open into the further darkness of my home. No real reason to keep the door locked, at least none that I’ve found, yet.

   My living space is simple because I’m simple. Simple and single. Except for my fish, whom I treasure dearly. The beautiful tank sits just near the kitchen, behind the tiny card table I call a dining table (despite the fact that I don’t even need it.) I don’t need roughly half the things in my apartment, but I own them anyway. Out of comfort if nothing else. Kind of like the bed I fall into when I reach my room. It’s massive, top quality comfort but I don’t sleep in it. I rest and recharge, but never sleep.  
I reach over for two remotes, one for the ceiling fan above me and the other for the television. Netflix calls to me and the soft hum of the fan helps me wind down. I flip on something from my ‘Continued Watching’ list. Another show to binge through the night.

  
   When morning comes I’m only aware of it through some instinctual part of me, due to the fact that my entire room is still encased in darkness. Only the best in black-out curtains. I shut the fan and the television off and rise from my bed to find a new set of clothes to throw on.

  
   A black turtleneck would seem to suffice, black jeans, black boots. Shocking. All black. Like my heart. After dressing I dip into the bathroom to run my hands through my hair a thousand times with product, making the gold and auburn waves stand on end and look presentable, albeit like I stuck my finger into an electrical outlet. I snag my gear belt off a hook on the back wall and secure it around my waist, double checking my gun as I head to the kitchen to find my keys and sunglasses.  
With my keys secured and my aviators on my face, I swipe a blood bag from the fridge. I’m getting dreadfully low and lately, the hospitals close to the area have been seeming to crack down on security. Not that it would be a terrible issue for me, but it makes me wonder. Upon immediately stepping into the sun, I grimace. I don’t burst into flames and ash as soon as the sun hits my skin, but it’s uncomfortable, painful, and it weakens me. The longer I’m out in the sun, the weaker I get. I haven’t attempted any experiments yet related to how long I’d be able to tolerate the sun, and I really don’t want to.   

   I make it to my car fast enough without drawing suspicion and when I’m inside the vehicle, I can feel the sluggishness wearing off. A vehicle with tints like this should be illegal, but I can get away with it. I start the car and just as I’m getting onto the freeway, my phone buzzes from the dashboard dock it sits on and I swipe up, grinning as I answer.

  
   “Naomi, my beautiful willow! How are you?”

  
   I can hear Naomi smile down the line as she responds, “Matty dearest! I’m doing fabulously, thank you for asking. I was calling to see if you were free tonight.”

  
   I had to think as I clicked my blinker on to switch lanes, watching the tall downtown buildings come closer from the distance.

  
   “I have no goings ons that I can think of, why do you ask?”

  
   “I think I’ve found somewhere we can get more stock. A hospital not up to its ears in security.” Her voice sounds low and hushed, quick for my ears to understand but no one else’s.

  
   “Well, now you’ve got my attention. I’ve been running low.”

  
   “Right? Wanna scope tonight?”

  
   She didn’t have to ask me twice, “As long as work doesn’t keep me, absolutely. Meet at my place?”

  
   “Of course. See you then, Matty” Then we were disconnected.

  
   A fresh supply and low surveillance? Maybe the week wouldn’t be terrible. Don’t get me wrong, hunting is my life. My second, natural life compared to the one I appear to lead. But, I have to go about it carefully and unfortunately, can’t do it as often as I so would like. Los Angeles may have a large population, and an incredible amount of that population are criminals, but it’s a toll to have to hide the bodies and people tend to get suspicious when several murders are discovered. I didn’t want to end up on my own case.

   Arriving at work, I sneak one last peek at myself in a reflective surface. My hair is fine, my eyes are concealed behind brown contacts and I run my hand over the 5 o’clock shadow on my cheeks. I could shave now and be rid of it for several months before the hair would even start to grow back, but I thought about it, I kind of enjoyed the look. I ride the elevator from the underground garage up to the top floor and when the doors part I’m met with a long, dim hallway lined with several offices. I can’t properly enter the hallway until I scan my ID in the door.

  
   There’s a soft beep, and the door clicks open. The office’s along the hall are paneled with glass but their occupants keep the blinds drawn over both their windows and the glass facing outward at all times, which provides me endless comfort. It feels as though this building was designed with vampires in mind.  
The reality is police departments (and, in this case, the attached jailhouse) are designed as windowless mazes, just in case anyone attempts escape. Endless hallways and doors, little to no windows. I make my way through easily, passing faces I see every day with the usual round of hellos. I’m about to make it to my own desk when a familiar voice barks out my name.

  
   “Matthias!”

  
   I turn around to face the source and Police Chief Eric Jameson stands in the doorway of his office, his silver hair reflecting the florescent lights. He beckons for me with a single finger and the feeling that follows makes my stomach twist in a few knots. Being called into the Chief’s office could mean anything and the man seemed to always look and feel perpetually angry so it was impossible to tell what I’d be called in for at any given moment. I follow like the loyal soldier I am and shut the door behind me. Chief stares me down in that way that makes me feel uncomfortable, even for a human.

  
   “Can I help you, sir?” I ask, taking a seat across from his desk.

  
   He says nothing as he plops a thick, manila folder onto his desk and looks at me expectantly. I take the silence as meaning I’m supposed to grab the folder and I do, flipping it open. It’s a case I recognize very well. One that’s only just started to make national headlines and though I personally haven’t worked on it yet, I knew the ins and outs rather well. Many counties in Los Angeles were experiencing upticks in murder, kidnapping, and overall violent crime. It was suspected to be due to gang violence and drug wars but the circumstances didn’t actually equate to the crimes this time.

  
   “You’re assigned.” Chief Jameson simply states.

  
   I was unaware that those two words would fill me with such glee, a smile spreading wide across my face before I could help it, “This is amazing. This case is everything.”  
That’s all I state because I don’t want to babble the Chief’s ear off, so I simply thank him a thousand and one times as I head out of his office, neck deep into the folder already. I’d always had a feeling this had to do with vampires. The murder processes fit to a T, if you knew what you were looking for. The question was why, and more importantly, who. Vampires as a species in the 21st century laid as low as we were able. Murders were hardly ever committed anymore unless you had one thirsty vampire on your hands or one with a vendetta against humankind. I killed because it was necessary.

  
   This was my way of keeping Los Angeles safe that flew under the radar of the federal and state governments. Murder is frowned upon, even if it’s vigilante justice. All the same, the cases I looked at now pointed toward vampires. Though several departments were rolling out the excuses of gang activity or the second coming of the Manson Family.

  
   But I knew. Or felt I knew. I don’t have to look up as I make my way to my desk and fall into my chair. I scan detail after detail of each case. The most interesting connection each case had was the fact that they were individuals. Always a single murder, a singular kidnapping. None were children, neither were any particularly old. I don’t think I spotted a single person past the age of 30.

   None of these people had any relation to each other, as far as I could tell. The murders varied in nature but most popular was exsanguination, primarily from several points on the body, all the same, two hole markings. Of course, the media and public pick up on this and are the first to scream vampire. Regardless, they’re correct. This is the doing of a vampire, multiple, even. Chief chose me because he knew that I could crack this case, but he’s appeared to have gotten lucky. I’m a two for one.

   There comes a point where I’ve felt I’ve absorbed enough information as I can. This file will go home with me later, where I’ll be able to unpack it even more but I have to set it aside for the time being because of another case I’ll be “closing up”. If there was one reason I became a cop, it was to protect people at all costs and to rid the world of disgusting, human monsters that go bump in the night. In this case, it was a child abuse victim. If it’s one thing I cannot tolerate above all else, it is those that hurt children. Sure, this man could go away for a very long time and perhaps even the state would take care of his death. But that would take too long for my liking. I would deal with this myself, as I am often prone to do.

   I check my phone to find a text from Naomi, telling me that she would want to meet up around close to midnight. I could certainly be done by then. Tucking the case away in my desk I hop onto the piling amount of reports that I have to write. This would normally take me an hour or two at maximum but in keeping up my charade, I can’t exactly have my fingers flying across my keyboard. I kill the majority of my shift until lunch and when I’m finally able to leave my desk, I slip into the kitchen and retrieve a stealthily placed thermos bottle. None are the wiser as I place the bottle in the microwave, watching it rotate as it warms up the liquid inside.

   I’m careful to not let anyone catch onto the fact that I hardly eat, occasionally bringing an actual lunch with me just in case. I don’t mind human food. It does nothing for me in terms of nutrition or hunger satisfaction. I may as well be eating tofu. But it tastes good. Humans make pretty good food and I get to indulge on it every once and a while without consequence. If I were to eat it often enough though, it could wreak havoc on my stomach.

   When lunch is ready, I gulp it down greedily. It isn’t quite the same as feeding from the vein. Sure, it’s fresh and warm, but there’s a certain distinction between what seems fresh and what is fresh. I kill the rest of my lunch break by reading a book but my mind is still focused on the case I’ve been presented with. I wrack my mind for the vampires I know in the area but none really come to mind in committing atrocious acts like this. Naomi certainly doesn’t. But she would know about every single detail of this case by tonight if she hadn’t already known half of it, working as a hematologist at the nearby hospital had its perks for her.

   The rest of the day slugs by as I finish off police report after police report and I don’t leave until the sun has firmly set. It’s not spectacularly late, and I had a couple of hours to kill until Naomi came by to pick me up. Rather than “shop” on an empty stomach, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to head out on another hunt. I drove home to change into looser, more inconspicuous clothing and left my car, whipping into the night. The case was still on my mind as I ran and I’d distracted myself to the point where I had no idea where I’d ended up until I stopped. Glancing around told me it was a richer area of Los Angeles, blue blood tonight it was, then.

   Rolling my shoulders, I fell into a natural looking stroll as I headed toward the more densely populated area. Clubs of all kinds were open tonight and I felt out of place in the clothing I’d thrown on. It would only take a moment to pop into one of the nearby name brand shops, I thought. Which is exactly what I did. In and out in a minute tops, a nice set of clothes tucked under my arm.

   Steal from the rich, right?

   I find a restroom to slip into and change just as fast. Leaving the old clothes behind, I straighten myself out in the mirror. Maroon _was_ a good color on me. The suit fit in all the right places and with one last check of my ass, I casually stepped back out onto the scene.

   Stopping at the first club that catches my eye, I pass one of the bouncers a wad of cash produced from my pocket. Given where he works it shouldn’t be an incentive, but he waves me in anyway. I slip in amongst the throngs of the crowd, immediately assaulted by bass pounding music. It’s a decent enough beat to sway to but my eyes are roaming the crowd already, seeking out tonight’s meal. I manage my way to the bar and slip into a seat, requesting a Bloody Mary and sitting back in waiting. Perhaps my meal would come to me. The bartender supplies my drink and the minute my hand closes around the glass is the minute a man comes slinking up to my presence.

   He’s very pretty. Someone who looks as though he’s stepped off a modeling magazine, and probably has. He’s got an inky black crew cut that looks freshly dyed with rough stubble to cover his face. His shirt clings to him in a way that I can’t tear my eyes from and I continue to follow downward to a pair of jeans that cling similarly. When I finally bring my gaze back up to meet his eyes, they’re as blue as my own, faux color. He moves in to sit next to me, leaning in to speak though this isn’t necessary.

   “All dressed up with nowhere to go?” He hums into my ear.

   I take a sip of my drink and nod, looking slightly forlorn, “Yeah. I got stood up tonight. I’d just bought this outfit too.”

   The man looks genuinely sympathetic at my play, “I know the feeling.”

   This raises my brows, there’s no way he could possibly know the feeling of rejection.

   He catches this and laughs, “It’s true! I do…” He trails off, not seeming to be great at small talk. I had to twist this in my favor somehow.

   “Can we head outside for a minute? I need a smoke. If you don’t mind.” I ask as I go to bring my drink back for another sip. Just before the glass hits my lips, I smell something distinct, undetectable by human smelling standards. This is what I needed. I set the drink down as if changing my mind and catch the man glancing before he nods.

   “Yeah, sure.”

   As we wind our way through the crowd again to head out, I try to get a feel for this guy. Unfortunately as a vampire I’m unable to read minds, as convenient as this would be. I can only instead get vague impressions from people. What they’re feeling and what they _might_ be thinking. I do this now as the man trails behind me, keeping a hand on my back so he doesn’t lose me in the crowd. He had plans for me. Had, being the key word. I couldn’t imagine how many other men or women he might have tried this with, how many he might have succeeded with and it makes my teeth grind and my fangs ache.

   We get outside away from the music and other captivating bodies and head in the opposite direction of the club down the sidewalk. I pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, pulling out a stick and lighting one. I offer to the stranger next to me and he denies. We walk in silence for a moment before I incline to ask his name.

   “What’s your name, anyhow?”

   “I’m Tyler. You?”

   “Matt.”

   We’ve reached the end of the block, crossing the street into a darkened park. I let him feel as though he’s got the lead, suppressing my natural instincts until the time is right. He seems to be getting a little more antsy, more bold as he moves closer to me as if I don’t notice. He could try something right now and all I would have to do is whip out my badge. It could be over in a moment and he wouldn’t have to die. But something told me that he was going to continue his abhorrent behavior until it went too far. As if it hadn’t already.

   I fully let him lead now and we travel further into the dark. It’s so difficult not to melt into the shadows but I need to time it right. He leads me to a set of abandoned restrooms and I feel like he’s done this before, in this exact place, as he pulls the men’s restroom door open. I allow myself to walk inside. The bathroom is clean but the lights overhead flicker and are generally dim. I hear Tyler step in behind me and the door close and suddenly his hands are on me and pushing me forward toward the nearest sink. I don’t even let his hands get to my pants before I whirl around at breakneck speed, my hand at his throat as I squeeze. I can feel my eyes burning.

   He looks positively shocked as he struggles against me and I growl deep in my chest.

   “How many people have you VIOLATED.”

   He chokes out but doesn’t answer and I slam him against the porcelain sink  which creaks from the pressure. I don’t need an answer and instead let him go. He looks at me with wide eyes and immediately takes off out of the bathroom. I let him go as I count to 10 in my head. When I hit 10, I’m out the door in a blur. I melt into the shadows and it’s a comforting feeling as I catch up to Tyler in mere seconds. I tackle him from the back and once we land, I have him pinned with a knee into his chest. The contacts I was wearing have since dissolved and when he sees the red he goes to scream. I immediately cut the scream off as I sink my fangs into his jugular. The force and pressure of the blood will no doubt ruin the suit but that would be a matter for another time as I drain Tyler dry, feeling his heart beat eventually weaken and stop.

   I remove myself from his body with disgust, searching his pockets for his wallet and removing the several thousand dollar watch from his wrist. There’s no indication that any human being around witnessed what took place. My only concern is the lack of inconspicuous places to shove the body. I settle for leaving Tyler’s body slumped in one of the restroom stalls. This, I could afford, to be chalked up to the vampire murder and kidnapping case I had been assigned that very morning. As I leave the park I lament the ruining of my suit for only a moment before realizing I’m being watched. There’s a particular feeling of being watched when you compare a human to a vampire and I knew this was the latter.

   I scan the darkness quickly, teeth already bearing as I emit a hiss of dominance. This was currently my territory. It’s not until I’ve made a full 360 that the perpetrator makes themselves known, slamming into me with unparalled speed. My own speed is to match as I maneuver myself through the air and land perfectly. I growl as the other vampire launches at me again, dodging their move and countering by grabbing them by the shoulder to slam them into the concrete. The concrete cracks under the impact and I’m quick to pick them back up and wrestle them into a move where I could easily tear off their head.

   I snarl, “Who the fuck are you and what the _fuck_ are you doing here?!”

   A masculine voice responds as the vampire tries to claw and bite away my grip, “The fuck does it matter to you? I smelt blood. I arrived.”

   I tighten my grip and hear the man grunt at the force I exert, “If you’re smart, I’ll let you go and you’ll get the fuck out of my territory.”

   “As if, faggot.”

   I snarl again, now enraged, and without giving the man a second chance, I tear off his head with a sickening crunch. The body falls and I toss the head with it, immediately pulling out my lighter to burn away the evidence, it would be gone by dawn.

   During my entire night I hadn’t once decided to check the time until now. I pull out my phone frantically as I’d remembered Naomi was to pick me up tonight and with relief, realize it was only 10 minutes to midnight. I slowly begin to head out of the park, ready to make a run back home as I prepared to call her and let her know I would soon be ready.

   The phone dialed twice before I heard her pick up and it's the last thing I remember before everything went black.

 


End file.
